


Gossamer Egg

by Clamdiver, Pearlybj



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Sex, Fae & Fairies, Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 12:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18549760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clamdiver/pseuds/Clamdiver, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearlybj/pseuds/Pearlybj
Summary: The is an adaptation of my very first Homestuck smut Clam & I wrote. Greet the end with the beginning.In the alternate version of reality for this universe, Dirk has power over the Queen and her consort: it has been stripped for the sake of pointlessly dirty incest fanfiction.





	Gossamer Egg

John rests atop an oversized down mattress, peeking out from betwixt ROMANTIC CURTAINING. He’s been dressed by the Queen in a silk gown, of the sort only the fae court could produce.

 

Harry kisses his leg, kisses up and up and up, slips the silk up as he goes.

  
  


Cute knee kisses occur. John giggles.

 

Thigh Kisses.

 

Harry leaves a little trail, eventually getting into the even more ticklish spot between John’’s thighs.

 

You know the spot.

 

Harry is insistent on giving this man a luxurious experience. He has a nice tea tray setup & incense. Soft lighting, soft fragrance. Fluffy soft blankets & pillows.

 

And of course.

 

Of COURSE.

 

The Queen and King’s little consort, with his newly risen faerie form, his limbs are softer than the silk.

 

Harry can't keeps his hands to himself. He refrains from making corny little, jokes about it. John had no choice in becoming a consort. The least he can do is treat this one encounter the sylph chose for himself seriously.

 

~

 

John’s wings are folded behind him, the tails trailing across the bed. In the dim lighting, their green hue is almost glowing. 

 

They have Roxy’s sigil burned into them. All will know this lovely creature belongs to the royals of the Seelie Court. As Roxy’s firstborn son, surely no one will mind if Harry touches a little.

 

He can’t resist, he fingers all the way up on johns waist. SOFT tummy. Resting his chin on the edge of the bed, he peppers more kisses over john’s thighs. John has a lovely blush growing & these silly new limbs of his are all a flutter. Not unlike his frantic heart.

 

Harry waves his as well; he knows John is fascinated with them. His human side hasn't been properly washed out yet.

 

Just slow mesmerizing beats, John can’t take his eyes off Harry. They may be in a fancy pants castle, but it has NOTHING on the prince.

 

Harry tells John that he has to keep his hands to himself tonight. Just for now. Harry wants to be the one to take care of John. It drives john NUTS.

 

(“Harry don’t try to torture me, you’re no good at it.” “Hush, drink your tea, John. Have a biscuit.”)

 

Harry wants to kiss those pouting lips so very much, but he knows other ways to turn john’s mouth into a smile (amongst other shapes.) Tickles!

 

It hardly lasts long. Viscous tickles all melt into gentle touches. John is warm, it feels nice. Tiny, tiny belly hairs for softness & scales on his wings for smoothness.

 

Though a drug it is not, it certainly has an effect on Harry getting John’s scales all over his arms, in his hair.

 

John is very tempted to ruffle Harry’s hair free of it just to make Harry annoyed. The prince does not like being treated as a child.

 

Maybe just… the little hairs on the back of his neck. “C’mon, Harry please?”

 

~

 

The gown is tied all the way down the sides. John still isn’t sure how to properly fold away his wings, and there wasn’t any other way he was getting the thing on. Or off. Very deliberately, Harry pulls at the laces, all the way from ankle to shoulders, trailing his fingers as he goes. He feels John’s breath hitch just a bit.

  
  


Like a Morning Glory, John opens up for Harry, the gown pooled around him like violet petals.

 

John smiles cheekily up at Harry who keeps roaming his eyes up his pale form. Rosy nipples, the rise and fall of his flushed chest. Hair ruffled & tossing around with the Sylph’s personal Breeze. Lips wetted by the flick of a tongue.  Harry drinks it like a dehydrated man offered water.

 

“Does the Prince like what he sees?” John asks, waggling his eyebrows. Trying to hide his growing arousal. He didn't exactly expect Harry to respond with a reverent kiss to John’s hand.

 

“He does Indeed,  _ Animus.” _

 

John’s face goes from rosy to deep red, flush reaching the tips of his ears. Roxy had explained to him the importance of his new name, and to share it with another was the equivalent of sharing your soul.

 

With the same boldness that had enchanted the Unseelie Prince from the beginning, John leans up slightly to whisper back, “If his majesty is pleased to have me, then so am I.”

 

He kisses the other quickly only to lay back down on the bed. A bird hoping its mate will give chase.

 

Harry is of course a creature easily tempted to the chase. Matching boldness with daring, he lay his head in the Sylph’s lap, burying his face in bare stomach. His neck brushes against the gossamer sash on John’s hips.

 

He mumbles something into John’s belly. John snorts, framing Harry’s face in his hands.

 

“Don’t talk to my stomach, dear. It's too dumb to understand you,” he lightly chastised.

 

Harry sighs, “I said that you are lovely. I want to keep you from my mother.”

 

John gives a wry smile. “I would appreciate it if you’d show me in action, not words Harry.”

 

“So says the silver tongued devil.” That earns him a pinch on the nose.

 

“If you haven’t noticed, my astute friend, my silver tongue was chopped off with the rest of my old head! Hehe.”

 

“Ah, and what a lovely head it was. Shame it wasn’t mounted on a pike.”

 

John groans and his wings twitch. He really  _ is _ a terrible liar in his new form.

 

“Harry, stop being weird and show me some of that prowess you’ve bragged about.”

 

Harry can’t help but let out a faint chuckle. “If the lady insists.”

 

The Seelie Prince wastes no more time on empty words, fully intent on proving his adoration to this wily creature to the fullest extent.

 

He presses his lips to John’s navel, soft and slow. Ever so gently, he teases at skin with his teeth. At the same time, he tugs the last of John’s modesty away; the gossamer pools on the floor.

 

The Prince smirks, though John couldn’t see it. “You sullied your old form; I rather wish I had this one all to myself.”

 

His fingers explore the sensitive skin revealed by the gossamer, over John’s hips and between. His touch is that of a talented sculptor, deft and accurate.

 

A skilled actor, John keeps his spine relaxed and his hip still, but the tails and inner edge of his wings beat hard against the bed.

 

“Do be careful, Animus. Here.” Gently, Harry picks up the smaller fae and arranges him over the pillows, his new limbs more comfortably spread.

 

Harry repositions himself to kneel between John’s legs, a thin glass vial pulled from the inner folds of his sleeves and set it on the tea tray. Try as he might not to, John laughs.

 

“What else you got up there? Some rabbits perhaps?” 

 

With a smirk, of his own, Harry kisses the crown of john’s prick. He is rewarded with faintest stutter in his consort’s otherwise steady breathing.

 

Small victories.

 

“Using such a dreadful cliche would turn my act into a fib, but we can take a peek under my sleeves if you really want. Who knows, perhaps we shall find that fortune you promised me?”

 

“Of course! All of my coins are stamped, now they're officially gullible!”

 

“That doesn't even make sense.”

 

Good Graces give him strength. They’ve given him the patience to deal with John’s petulence so far, but never have they been in such an intimate state before.

 

~~

 

Animus--John, is nervous. All of the bite in his words was stemmed from the anxieties he no doubt had building in his gut. As Harry had learned, John rambles and tries to derail any line of thought that made him uncomfortable in the slightest, whether knowingly or not.

 

Thus he can't help but to ask;

 

“John, is this what you want? The last thing I want is to think I understand your desires. You must tell me what you are alright with.”

 

John seems stunned by the question, eyes wide as he tilts his head to the side like a bird. 

 

Then after a beat or two of silence the other fae finds his voice.

 

“Yea-Yes. I just, ugh. I know I bragged about my performances on stage and how certain roles required me to pantomime some pretty dirty acts, but that's nowhere near the real thing! But, yes I want this, I want _ you.  _ In whatever way you’re offering.” John taps his fingers on the bedding.

 

“I’m gonna be at least a little nervous the first time around, though. I just am.”  John looks away. From the angle Harry was at, it’s difficult to see the little shrug John punctuated his statement with.

 

Despite all that they’d learned in their brief time together, directness is still something the old fae struggles with. However, in this moment it would seem that honesty would benefit them both greatly.

 

Harry cleared his tight throat.

 

“I too feel somewhat anxious. The last time I had done this-- Don’t make a face John, it will freeze that way-- my partner was less than a stellar tutor.”

 

The roughness, the nails, the bites into each others skin- these are not things that Harry wanted to confess to John. At least, not during their first time nor with hatred driving their actions.

 

Instead of pouting further, John lifts a hand to gently stroke Harry’s cheek. He traces the dark speckles across those high cheekbones with his eyes and says,

 

“What a pair we make, mm? Fumbling about together like a pair of newborns.”

 

Pride set aside, Harry agrees, “Two fools in a bedchamber better fit for a king.”

 

John gives a half hearted smile. It barely reaches his eyes. 

 

“John, what is it that truly ails you?”

 

The new fae looks down meekly, 

 

“Its just..”

 

“Yes?” Harry prompts.

 

“It still all feels like a dream. One second I see my own body being dragged through the streets, the next I’m whisked away straight into your arms.”

 

A pause.

 

“I feel the same way. My mother’s wedding had the tone of a funeral, I’m not sure if it was yours or mine, and now you’re here.”

 

“That’s not what I mean. Ugh! What I’m trying to say is that I don’t deserve this or you or anything!”

 

He gives a rueful laugh

 

“Just...what kind of fucked up karmic system is out there that a crook like me gets everything he ever wanted? I should have been dragged down with the rest of the Shades.”

 

John’s words end in a half shout. The hand was caressing Harry’s cheek was lifted to cover John’s eyes.

 

“You’re so dumb, John! Remember I was accepted back here even after all the execution incidents. I’m here. Mother thinks I’m still good enough for the Court of Light; she took me back. I trust her judgement more than anything.” Harry barked an empty laugh. “Though I don’t doubt she’ll have my skin if I pull something more foul-natured.”

 

John lifted the hand covering his face, peeking down to meet Harry’s stern gaze.

 

The Prince went on. “In all my years on this earth, there is one thing that has kept me sane for this long; Our actions cannot be unwritten, and if they are, it's in horrific violation of the Law we know. A defiance the King wouldn't even dare make. You caught Fate’s eye for whatever reason, Animus. Use this second chance to the benefit of others rather than sulking in your human past.”

 

Face fully revealed, John felt himself giving a weak yet genuine smile at his lover’s words.

 

“See? This is why I don’t deserve you.”

  
Harry was about to protest when he was silenced with a warm finger to his lips.

 

The Sylph’s eyes drooped slightly, swirling with a complex display of both love and lust.

 

“I may not deserve you, Prince, but that doesn’t make me any less grateful that you are mine tonight.”

 

Harry feels that pesky string tugging on his heart again, the same one that choked him the night he dropped John into the lake. The very same one that had been pulled time and time again the longer he and John travelled together. Perhaps his consort should try to play the Earth Harp, being as he was so keen on playing the one in Harry’s chest.

 

And oh the melody it would play.

 

John lays back, stretching out like a spoiled cat on its masters couch. Anticipation replaces anxiety on his face.

 

“I agree with you about one thing though, Harry. We shouldn’t waste the gift that Fate has given us.”  John punctuates his statement with an inviting spread of his legs.

 

The sudden change of tone leaves the Prince sputtering. This un-mortal shouldn’t be able to so easily rattle him. Nonetheless, logic doesn't protect him from the facts: this young fae is hauntingly pretty and clever and  _ his. _

 

Almost too casually for his racing pulse, Harry sheds his shirt and leggings and raises himself for a sweet kiss. Harry’s senses are set afire where their arms and chests met. A hand finds its way to Harry’s waist, tugging him closer. 

 

When they part, John kisses the tip of Harry’s nose lightly, looking right into the depths of his turquoise eyes.

 

“You’re gorgeous, you know that right?” he breathes.

 

Harry’s own flush must be reaching his chest by now, (perhaps a little farther down) really it’s almost unfair.

 

“Like, even for a pretty boy faerie prince. You could give some of Jade’s suitors a run for their money.”

 

Harry’s brow twitched slightly. “Scoundrel, you’d compare me to the lesser folk now of all times?” He gives John a playful shove then reached for the vial on the tea tray. “For your daring, you ought to have been reborn ugly, though I’m fortunate you were not.”

 

John snorts, “Pff and here I thought you loved me for my maidenly virtue.”

 

“All the unicorns would flee the continent from your level of impurity. But so be it. Had you any virtue, I intend to tarnish it now.” 

 

“Just shut up and look pretty.”

 

Harry pinches his thigh, earning a sharp yelp, giggles following after. When John stops trying to kick him, he grabs hold of the pinched appendage and kissed the red spot. 

 

Harry looks up into into the other fae’s eyes, nearly losing himself in their depths, then he bites down on the flesh.

 

John lets out a brief hiss that wasn’t entirely pained sounding, never looking away as Harry soothed away the sting with gentle sucks and kisses to the mark. Deciding that John’s other limb was woefully undecorated, the Prince began to give the left leg a matching mark.

 

With one hand clenching the sheets, John slid another down his reddening chest, teasing a nipple in sync with Harry’s sucks.

 

The fae tastes the salt of skin and sweat, tinged with the bittersweetness of John’s wing scales. It isn't all that unpleasant from where Harry was sitting. He has quite a nice view of John’s once flagging erection now raised to half mast, it’s tip growing more wet with pre the closer Harry’s mouth got to John’s hips. Speaking of John’s hips, Harry felt his consort start to roll them to the point where it was difficult to continue leaving lovebites on John’s legs.

 

“Mm, isn’t there anything else you’d like to do down there?”John said with a sigh.

 

Ever drawn to tides, the Nixie’s son kisses where John grows damp. His hands sli over and around a narrow waist, then knead those soft thighs and round tush. At first hesitant, his tongue flickers out and catches beads of salty fluid. A murmur and a wind-chime laugh from John encourages him, and he grows more bold. Harry laps at his crown and learns the Sylph’s shape with his lips.

 

His focus narrows to his lover’s center, Harry’s grip slackens and his wings flap at random. His body burns from toe to fingertip; he’d have sworn he was the one being pleasured. Despite his growing desire to stroke himself, Harry tries to focus on John’s taste as he took more of the other into his mouth.

 

John was already rather lithe for a young fae, and tho he was not particularly lacking in regards to size, Harry fits a fair amount of the other’s length into his mouth. Remembering himself, Harry wraps slim fingers around the base and teases the sensitive skin around his lover’s opening. He feels John shiver ever so slightly.

 

The Prince licks and sucks at the STIFF COCK. The ridges and shape in his mouth, his lover’s squirming toes and pleased laughs, the fingers in his hair all serve to feed his own arousal. His hips quiver, and he bumps against the bedframe.

 

The Sylph gasps, short of breath.

 

“Ahh..Harry..this- Yes…”

 

The Prince continues to hum around his lover, the vibrations causing John to let loose an appreciative moan from his bite plumped lips. His hips sought more of Harry’s heat only to be held in place by a firm grip.

 

With a lewd little ‘pop’, Harry pulled away from the STIFF COCK.

 

The loss of suction leads to John making a rather piteous whine in the back of his throat. Hot breath fans over John.

 

“Patience, love. We mustn't let ourselves get carried away too soon, no?”

 

Green wings beat irritably against the mattress. John’s slew of muttered profanities is terribly satisfying to his partner; it is always a pleasant reminder that John is not the only one capable of tearing down others pretences.

 

Harry uncorks the glass vial and slicks his fingers in the gel, coating them generously. With one more kiss to John’s thigh he asks, “Ready?”

 

John answers with vigorous nods (or some other affirmation.)

 

Gently, so gently, Harry nudges at the new fae’s entrance.

 

“Oh lords, it’s so weird,”  John whines, dramatically throwing an arm over his eyes.

 

“Do you wish to stop?” Harry asks, pulling the digit away.

 

“No!” John winces at his own outburst. “It's not  _ bad, _ just new and really, really weird.”

 

“So…?”

 

“I’m sitting here, stiff and panting, so no, _Prince,_ I don’t want you to stop.”

 

That made a soft laugh pass Harry’s lips.

 

“As the West Wind commands.”

 

Slowly, he breaches the ring of muscle, John tensing at the intrusion.

 

“Easy there, love, easy,” Harry murmurs against John’s thigh. He reached up to stroke his lover’s flagging erection to distract John from the pressure.

 

The Sylph sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, releasing it slower than it came in. Gradually, the discomfort grows more bearable as time goes on, each slick stroke bringing more hazy pleasure into John’s brain. 

 

Harry eases his fingers deeper as John’s inner walls unclenched some. When the young Sylph starts panting from more than just strain, Harry wiggles his fingers more, moving in and out of John’s body.

 

John tried his hardest to continue to remain as relaxed as he could for his Prince. The hand lightly teasing his dick makes this simultaneously easier and more difficult to do. He tries to enjoy the softness of the bed, the look of concentration on Harry’s face, the sweet smell of incense mixed with musk.

 

These thoughts all go out the window when his lover’s wiggling fingers brush against something that nearly has him releasing all over his belly had Harry not ceased his stroking.

 

“Haah..AH!” 

 

Fingers and toes tensing, the young fae’s back arches, heels digging into the mattress. Harry has to hold John’s hips down to keep him from floating off the bed. His loins are on fire in a way they’d never been before.

 

Being brought to the edge, only for it to be yanked away left John feeling somewhat hollow. He exclaims, “Fuuuck.”

 

A breathy laugh from between John’s legs breaches his hazy thoughts.

 

Harry checks twice, thrice that his lover is arranged comfortably with enough pillows, then climbs into bed. A few awkward laughs are exchanged as he attempts to position himself above John. The sylph’s wings are bumped here and there before Harry gets his bearings. Then it is him and his lover, all blush and skin.

 

John blinks up at him with hooded eyes of crystalline lake water at midday; Harry is drawn into them even more strongly than the element they so resemble. His whole body begs him to dive in, longs for him to unite water and wind.

 

Ever so slowly, the former Prince lowers himself onto his lover. He asked, “Is this alright? Are we crushing your wings?”

 

“You’re going to break me with anticipation alone! These wings are fine though. I think.”

 

Harry kisses the sass off his lips, then shifts so they’re aligned, his cock between his lover’s thighs. He is tempted to ask yet again if John was alright but refrains himself. His own temperance isn’t exactly managing well either. His core is on fire, and he needs a cool breeze.

 

The Prince eases himself forward. John hisses, and he meets resistance. He pauses, waited until the hiss dissolved into a more satisfied sound. His lover relaxes under him, and he slides further in.

 

The heat around him is both delectable and tantalizing. He wants to hold on to the moment he joins with John, but no force under the stars is stopping the shudder that runs down his spine, driving his hips into the other.

 

“Ah! Ah, heavens Harry, w-wowing me here, mmm.” John’s pleasure tickles Harry’s insides as his cock twitches against Harry’s stomach.

 

He moves towards John’s center, dragging his lips across velvet skin one more time before he loses himself to his wild nature. They unite, Harry buried in John over and over.

 

Where the wind meets with flowing water, the surface broils and breaks. Love? Perhaps. Little is left when the wind drowns in pleasure.

 


End file.
